


Your Heart's Too Big for Your Body

by corruptedkid



Series: descend!verse [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), Melanie Martinez (Musician)
Genre: Crybaby (Album), Gen, More details in the authors notes, Notfic, this was written before melanie turned out to be a terrible person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corruptedkid/pseuds/corruptedkid
Summary: Crybaby's backstory, in not!fic form.





	Your Heart's Too Big for Your Body

**Author's Note:**

> the previously-existing author's notes have been deleted and replaced with the following disclaimer.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: i wrote this fic before melanie was accused of sexual assault. i don't support her or defend her, and the sole reason i'm not deleting this fic is because i believe it's a valuable part of descend. in my mind, crybaby is more of a killjoy oc than an au version of melanie martinez. i wrote this story to show that. her history is her own, and if it's at all possible for you to separate her from melanie in your minds, i humbly request you do so. i don't want the character who i crafted so lovingly to be associated with a rapist. 
> 
> so, here's crybaby's side of the story.

So it's the early 2000s. Crybaby - or, at this point in time, Melanie - is a little kid living in Battery City. The slums, to be precise. She doesn't have any family except her mom. They aren’t quite juviehalls - outright rebellion is dangerous, so they tend to avoid it - but they sure as hell aren’t zombies. They scrape out a living on the edges of the Lobby; stealing, trading, and doing whatever they can to make it by.

They’re actually fairly close to the border of Zone 1, which means they’ve got pretty good access to desert trade. Melanie’s mom sneaks out to meet with the tumbleweeds fairly often. She always makes Melanie promise to stay hidden while she’s gone, and it’s not the safest, but it’s not like they’ve got many other options. 

One day, because Melanie is a little kid who likes to explore (as kids do), she waits until her mom is gone and then starts running all over the place.

The Lobby is a great place to play! It’s got bright lights everywhere, tons of alleys to duck in and out of, and gunfights. Wait, what? Oh shit! Look’s like playtime’s over, kids, ‘cause now there’s a juvie duking it out with a pair of dracs and Melanie was _so_ not ready for that. She runs the fuck out of there, but in her panic, she manages to get herself lost on the way. She sits on the curb and cries bc her poor little heart can’t handle this ;__; she’s never seen stuff like that before!! Her mom always kept her well sheltered from violence. Maybe a little too sheltered.

“Who are you?” asks a voice.

Melanie looks up with fat tears rolling down both cheeks. “Wh-who are _you_?” she asks right back. Her mom always taught her not to talk to strangers, but she figures this is an exception: the stranger talking to her is a kid.

It’s a little boy, around her height and age, with neat blond curls and a baby blue button-down shirt. Melanie eyes it enviously. Her own pink frock is dirty and ripped; she wishes she could have clothes that nice. 

“I asked you first,” says the boy.

Well, he’s got her beat there. “I’m Melanie,” she sniffles, wiping at her eyes.

The boy keeps staring at her - she wonders if there’s something on her face - but in a moment, he shrugs and plops down on the curb next to her. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asks. 

Melanie shakes her head, the rule about not talking to strangers already forgotten. “I’m from…” Her nose crinkles. Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t really know where she’s from! She doesn’t have a permanent home, and she can’t just say “Battery City.” She takes a look around her, hoping to get some sense of her surroundings, and gets a shock: she doesn’t recognize any of it.

The realization makes her start crying again. “I’m lost!” she wails. The boy looks unsettled, but gives her a pat on the back nonetheless.

“Do you have a mommy and daddy?” he offers. “I could help you find them.”

Melanie shakes her head. “Just a mommy,” she says miserably. “And she says I can’t play with anyone if she doesn’t know them.”

The boy nods in understanding. “My mommy says the same thing. But you seem nice.” He stands up and puts his hands on his hips. “I’m Johnny,” he declares. “I’m gonna take you home!” 

He grins, baby teeth on full display, and Melanie falls into puppy love in about an instant.

***

After a long, _long_ while spent wandering around the city, they finally run into someone Melanie knows. It’s an older slum rat, a friend of her mom’s, and she gasps the second she lays eyes on Melanie. “Oh my goodness! Your mom’s been looking _everywhere_ for you, come with me!”

“Who’s that?” Johnny whispers. He’s got that weird look on his face again as he takes in the woman’s raggedy clothes and pink hair. Melanie ignores it. She gravitates right into the woman’s arms and nearly falls over - her little feet are exhausted from walking around all day.

“A friend,” she says, giving Johnny a tired smile. “I’ll be okay now. Thanks for walking with me.” The woman starts to lead her away, and she goes willingly, but something makes her pause. “You know,” she says slowly, looking back over her shoulder, “We could play for a little while longer, if my mommy says yes.”

Johnny looks uncertainly up at the woman. He tugs at the hem of that nice blue shirt, then looks back at Melanie. “My mommy’s waiting for me,” he says. “Tomorrow?”

Melanie beams. “Yeah! See you tomorrow!”

Then she allows herself to be escorted home.

Her mom is livid. She lectures Melanie for about twenty minutes about wandering off before she notices how her daughter’s eyes are drooping, then lets the poor kid cuddle up in a pile of threadbare blankets and go to sleep. As she’s drifting off, Melanie mumbles something about the nice boy she met. Her mom asks a question, but she’s too far gone to hear it.

***

When Melanie _does_ get the chance to explain about Johnny, she doesn’t get the reaction she was expecting. She was expecting concern, maybe some sternness - it obviously wouldn’t go off without a hitch. But when she mentions the part of the city she was in and Johnny’s neat little bow tie, her mom shakes her head and gives the firmest “no” she’s ever heard.

“What?” Melanie says, upset. “Why not?”

And that’s when she gets her first explanation of the us-and-them dynamics in the city. It’s a dumbed-down version so she can understand, but what she comes away with is this: there are the Better Living employees/civilians, and then there are the juvies/street rats/killjoys. Better Living are the bad guys. The juvies and the killjoys are dangerous, but they’re the good guys. Melanie and her mom are street rats, so they don’t really fit in either category, but they’re not supposed to associate with Better Living.

Johnny is a Better Living kid.

That doesn’t make sense to Melanie. Johnny had seemed nice enough to her. He’d helped her find her way back home, after all.

And in her eyes, that’s all she needs! She decides her mother must be wrong. Soon after, she sneaks away and dives deep into the city, trying to retrace her previous route.

It doesn’t work. She just gets lost again, and it takes her a long time to find her way back. Luckily, her mom doesn’t return until after she does. And with this second trip, Melanie had started to recognize things more; little landmarks she can find her place with.

She starts scheming.

And then she adopts a new routine. Whenever her mom leaves her alone, she travels all over the city, creating a mental map and trying to figure out where the heck her friend has gone. It’s a few weeks before her labors come to fruition. She’s balancing on the curb, walking along with both arms outstretched, when she hears a little voice say, “Melanie?”

And it’s Johnny! :D :D Her heart flutters, and she jumps off the curb to race up to him. “Hi!” she says excitedly. He’s changed his clothes - today, he’s got a cream-colored sweater-vest, and oh, isn’t it just _adorable_ <333333!!! She almost reaches out to touch the soft fabric, but stops herself just in time. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” she says. “Do you want to play a game?”

Johnny doesn’t say anything.

Melanie’s face falls. “What is it?”

Johnny picks at his sweater, looking down at his sneakered feet. “My mommy said I’m not supposed to talk to you anymore,” he says morosely.

Melanie frowns. “Mine said the same thing. But we don’t have to listen, do we? We can still play if we want to.” 

The look Johnny gives her is nothing short of shocked. She’s just shaken his entire world up. As a perfect BLi-compliant darling, he’s never thought about any kind of rebellion, not even the white lies you tell your parents. How could he keep playing with Melanie when he’s been expressly forbidden to?

It’s a new idea, but a strangely captivating one. 

So he agrees, and they play hide and seek and tag until Melanie realizes she should be getting home. They go their separate ways, and she’s in her rightful place by the time her mom gets home. No one is the wiser ;)

***

Things continue like that for a while. Johnny’s a bit quieter than Melanie, and much less rowdy, but she finds it endearing. She lives for the moments when she can break him out of that shell and make him laugh out loud. 

But things aren’t perfect. One day, Johnny meets her to play and he’s much quieter than usual. When Melanie pushes for an explanation, he tells her that he’s been acting too silly at home and his parents have been scolding him for it. He hasn’t told them about her, but they’re suspicious. He could get in real trouble if they find out he and Melanie are still playing together.

It’s a sobering thought. Melanie can’t imagine a life where you can’t act silly in your own home. She starts to feel pretty bad for Johnny. He might have a nice wardrobe, but he doesn’t have much fun :(

So she tries to fix that! She takes him into the Lobby and they get their hands on a xylophone, one of the dinky little kids’ ones with the rainbow keys. He seems to enjoy himself, but after that, he still doesn’t laugh as often. 

***

Their first close call happens one warm summer night. Melanie catches wind of a storyteller in the area, so she and Johnny sit listening to heroic tales for so long that they forget the time. When Melanie realizes she’s late, she has to run as fast as she can back home, frantically waving to Johnny over her shoulder. 

She gets back just a minute too late.

Her mom is waiting with her arms crossed. “Melanie,” she says, and she’s using that tone, the one that says she is Not Happy. Melanie suddenly feels very small. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t be running off on your own.”

“I was just listening to stories,” Melanie says meekly.

“I’m sure you were. But I was so worried, baby.” Her mom’s face softens. “Next time, just tell me if you want to go out, okay? I only want to know where you are. You’re getting older now, but you’re still too young to be out on your own. I can have Maria look after you if you want.”

Melanie sighs. The last thing she needs is a babysitter. That would ruin her plans >:(

She doesn’t let her disappointment show, though. She just nods and hopes her mom won’t make good on the offer.

***

She doesn’t, thank God. Melanie keeps sneaking around without a care in the world. She’s getting more and more daring, and, as she’s swept up in her own childish version of rebellion, she barely notices Johnny retreating further and further into his shell. 

Not until she decides to surprise him one day.

She knows he goes to school in the Southern part of the city, so she wanders around looking for the building until she finds it. It’s big and white like all the other buildings (ugly, she thinks, there should be more color), but there’s a sign which she’s pretty sure says “school” out in front of it. She can’t read many words yet, but her mom’s been trying her best to teach her. 

Melanie waits outside until the end of the school day when all the kids come out. They walk in a single-file line, their faces as blank as their crisp white uniforms. Melanie gives each of them a once-over, dismissing them in turn until her eyes land on a familiar blond head.

She skips right up to him, smiling her prettiest smile. She’s even got a little flower in her hair - she nicked it from a tumbleweed when they weren’t looking (the tumbleweed totally saw, they just let her have it because they thought she was cute.) Basically, she’s feeling super good, and she just _knows_ she’s gonna make Johnny’s day by showing up early.

Except, when Johnny sees her, he doesn’t smile. He doesn’t say hi. He doesn’t say anything at all. If anything, he looks a little scared. He glances back and forth to his classmates, then fixes his eyes on the person in front of him and keeps walking.

“Johnny?” Melanie asks, confused. “What’s wrong?”

No response. She walks along next to him. “Johnny, why won’t you talk to me? Johnny!”

A hand comes down on her shoulder, and she jumps. Towering over her is a stern-faced teacher with pursed lips like she’s been sucking on a lemon. “You’d best run along home,” she says. Melanie recognizes that tone. It’s adult-speak for _or else_.

Before she turns away, she sees a little black smiley face on the teacher’s blazer. The sign of Better Living industries. 

Melanie walks back home with a heavy heart.

***

Johnny doesn’t show up to their meeting place the next day.

Or the next.

Melanie tries not to lose heart, but it’s difficult. She tries going back to the school one day, but she just sees Johnny walking alongside another little girl and it upsets her so she leaves. She’s pretty miserable. Her mom’s noticed, so she’s started to stay home more often, which of course just makes Melanie feel worse. She’s too young to be angsting like this damn it!!

A few weeks later, Johnny shows up again.

He doesn’t even pretend to return Melanie’s smile. “We can’t play anymore,” he says. “I got in trouble. My daddy said that if you don’t start acting better, you’ll get in trouble, too.” That eases some of the weight off Melanie’s chest - Johnny’s just looking out for her! - but then he continues. “You’re a juvie. I can’t talk to you anymore.” He wavers, the ghost of a frown tugging at his lips, then his face shutters again. “Bye,” he says, and he starts to walk away.

For a moment, Melanie’s frozen by shock. She starts to chase after him, shouting for him to wait… but deep down, she knows he won’t turn back. He’s made his choice.

So she sits down, takes her hair out of the pigtails she’d thought he’d like, and cries. 

***

After that, Melanie doesn’t have a friend to play with, but that doesn’t mean she stops sneaking out. She’s gotten a taste for it now. She knows the city like the back of her hand - she’s even found this neat entrance that leads underground, and she can’t wait to see how far it goes. 

The day she leaves to try it out, she never comes home.

The dracs sneak up right behind her and cover her mouth and nose with something that smells funny. She raises her voice to scream, but there’s a strong hand clamped over her mouth. In her last few moments of consciousness, all she can think about is her mom, wishing desperately that someone would come to save her.

But no one comes.

***

She wakes up in a tiny white room.

As she’s sitting up, disoriented, a lady slips into the room. She’s got neat black hair that rests at her chin, a grey pantsuit, and a smile that looks fake.

“Hello, Melanie,” she says warmly.

Melanie stays mute. She doesn’t know what to say in this situation, so silence seems like the best option.

“I’m the Director,” the lady says. “I’m going to be working with you from now on. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Melanie doesn’t know it, but that’s the moment her life takes a sharp turn for the worse.

***

So, basically… they experiment on her. This is in the earlier days of BLi’s medications, so they’re still trying to figure out how to make them more efficient, and doing that requires close studies on emotion.

The Director takes a particular liking to Melanie, which isn’t a good thing. There are other test subjects, kids who’ve been lifted off the streets - not that Melanie ever sees them - but Melanie gets special attention. 

In time, Melanie learns that the place she’s staying is called Linda Vista. She comes to hate that name, and everything it represents. Everything they do to her. They operate on her. They feed her pills. They pump chemicals into her veins through an IV drip. They make her emotions exceptionally strong - so after a while, her fear when the Director enters the room turns to full-blown panic attacks.

The Director just laughs.

Melanie gets dehydrated from crying so much. They pump more fluids into her, then come back with the chemicals that bring her to tears again. They verbally destroy her self-esteem, too, telling her that she’s a failure, that no one will ever love her. 

Sometimes, she believes it. 

One day, when she’s half-hazy from anesthesia, she hears one of the doctors mutter for her to “stop being such a crybaby.”

And that introduces her to a new emotion - anger. How fucking hypocritical can they get??? They’re the ones making her cry in the first place!!!!!! >:((

They want her to _stop_ being a crybaby? That’s _exactly_ what she’ll be.

She turns the tables on them. She learns to regulate her own emotions, forcing laughter when they expect tears, or rage when they expect apathy. It’s rather amusing to watch them puzzle over the change in her. They’ve still got the upper hand, with all their medicine and science, but they don’t have her spirit trapped anymore.

Melanie spends years imprisoned. 

By the time she gets out, she’s a teenager. Her rescue comes in the form of another teenager.

“Who are you?” Melanie asks suspiciously. New people are extremely uncommon in Linda Vista. What’s even more uncommon is black-clad girls with ponytails and a trail of blaring alarms behind them.

“New Americana,” says the girl. “Come with me, we’ve got to go!” She reaches out her hand. After a split second of hesitation, Melanie takes it, and they go racing out the door. Melanie half-expects it to be a trick, but as the cool tile pounds against her bare feet, she begins to realize that it’s not. She doesn’t let the excitement brew, though. Not yet.

As it turns out, Americana is part of a faction of juviehalls. One of their kids was stolen by the dracs, so they’re on a rescue mission. They’re not meant to linger, but as Americana was dashing through the hall, she founds Melanie and she just couldn’t leave her behind. 

“What’s your real name?” Melanie pants as they run.

“I already told you,” says Americana, squeezing her hand. “I’m a juvie. We can choose whatever names we want.”

Melanie mulls over this for a minute. 

When Americana asks for her name, she says, “Crybaby.”

Americana smiles. “I knew I made the right choice picking you up.”

***

And so, Crybaby is indoctrinated into the faction. She’s regarded as a little weird - scratch that, a _lot_ weird. But that’s fine. She’s still pretty damn insecure after her life in Linda Vista - it left scars that won’t ever fully heal - but she’s got her own way of coping. If she knows no one will ever like her, well, they’re gonna dislike her on her own fucking terms. So she gives people the reactions they least expect, unnerving them as much as she possibly can and giggling all the while.

Americana’s the only person who really understands her.

Their relationship is… complicated. It’s much more than friendship. It might be romantic, if Crybaby wasn’t so scared of love. She settles for hugs that last longer than they should, kisses on the cheek, and late-night talks about their deepest, darkest thoughts. 

And it works.

Americana recognizes how intelligent she is behind the crazy facade. She knows how to read what Crybaby’s truly feeling - and _that_ is an achievement, considering Crybaby usually doesn’t know herself. They’re best friends. They balance each other. Crybaby reminds Americana to take things seriously; Americana reminds her that it’s okay to open up, while still respecting her.

Over the next few years of her life, Crybaby cries exactly once, and it’s in front of Americana.

Surprisingly, she isn’t embarrassed. 

***

Skip ahead a few years, and they’re in their very late teens. The old faction leader gets killed, and Americana climbs her way to the top. Crybaby becomes one of her closest advisors. It’s a great setup, and a lot of people are loyal to them, but… a lot of people aren’t. Crybaby’s reputation doesn’t do her many favors as a leader.

After a long period of patience, arguments, and failed plans, Crybaby decides to leave. If this faction won’t have her any longer, she’ll make her own.

It’s slow going on her own, but not as slow as she expected. Americana hooks her up with some great contacts, and she’s gotten to know a lot of people on her own over the years. She gets her own section of the tunnels, and soon enough, it’s full of juvies. These ones don’t question her. She makes sure to get to know them, to really earn their loyalty - if there’s one thing Americana taught her, it’s that alienating people doesn’t always work.

She’ll tease plenty once she’s gotten to know them all, but while she’s building a faction, she lays off a bit.

It’s about a year or so into her career as leader when she hears about Sandman and his crazy plan for the killjoys.

***

Crybaby initially hears it from Killer King. Apparently, the two are close, and that automatically gets this Mr. Sandman a place in her good books. 

Later on, it becomes apparent that Party Poison is also somehow involved.

 _That_ certainly gets her attention. She’s known about him for a while; it’s hard not to. She’s sort of fascinated by him. The stories all make him out to be so _angry_ \- like he’s stuck on one emotional setting. Kind of like her. 

Killer King throws her some cash, offers the killjoys up as free help around the faction, and she just can’t say no. 

***

Sandman shows up without Killer King, which is unexpected, but Crybaby can roll with it. Killer will get over whatever drama’s come between him and Sandman. He’s had his ups and downs in the past, but always came out on top.

Plus, Americana comes to visit yaaay!!!! Crybaby takes a minute to hug the heck outta her before she greets her guests, because friends are most important, everyone else can wait.

Then she proceeds to creep the fuck out of Sandman and Poison, and it’s _wonderful_. She’s hoping to get a rise out of Poison, but he looks more spooked than anything. Huh. Guess she’ll have to dig deeper for his weak points.

After that, she lets them do their business on their own. The faction won’t run itself! She’s got paperwork to do, calls to make, dirt to dig up on Party Poison (this _Fun Ghoul_ , ohohoooo, promising stuff ;))) ) and it takes up most of her time.

***

Crybaby should have been terrified to go back to Linda Vista, but she had beat BLi at that game years ago.

Poison’s scared enough for the both of them - he’s practically shaking in his boots. Crybaby has to laugh. She’d been so wrong about him. It had been disappointing at first, but she’d gotten over it quickly. No one could ever really be like her. She’s one of a kind, and that isn’t such a bad thing, not unless she lets it be. Besides, it’s fun to watch Poison think himself sick. 

Crybaby’s sort of glad she’s never fallen in love. It looks exhausting. (Her heart twinges at the thought of Americana, and she lets it, because that’s all it is. A twinge. She could never allow herself to feel anything more, and at this point, she’s not even sure if it’s possible.)

So she marches into Linda Vista without a care in the world.

She blows open Benzedrine’s door; watches the relief crash over Sandman’s face, only to be replaced by fear as Benzedrine doesn’t respond to him. She watches it all happen, a little tense - they need to hurry, or they won’t make it out in time... and then the crows come.

She goes into autopilot, ordering her troops to run for backup. This is just another fight. They just need to hurry, and they can go home and have milkshakes -

“Well, well, well.”

Crybaby turns and fires blindly. 

“I must say, I didn’t expect to see _you_ again, Melanie,” says a strange woman. Her eyes are too shiny. She says something else, but Crybaby barely hears.

She hasn’t been called _Melanie_ in years.

“I don’t know you,” she manages, then curses herself. Her own voice has betrayed her, trembling slightly with the nerves she should be able to push down, god damn it. This is _her_ game. She doesn’t lose. She _can’t_.

She gets the feeling that she is anyway.

She drifts through the next few minutes until she sees her own fear reflected in the woman’s eyes. That gets her attention. A moment later, Benzedrine crashes into her, knocking her to the ground and throttling her for all he’s worth. Crybaby grins.

Sandman yells for him to stop. Whaaat?? Quit ruining the party, Sandman, God!! >:(

“Don’t stop!” Crybaby shouts, mentally giving Sandman the finger. This woman is of Better Living; of _Linda Vista_. She deserves this and more. “Show her what you’re made of!” Benzdrine keeps smashing her head against the ground, and the white tiles turn red. 

Then Sandman pulls him away. They have a brief exchange, something that results in Sandman looking like he’s going to cry. Crybaby watches for a minute, but the sound of footsteps steals her attention.

Standing in the doorway are two BLi soldiers, dressed in matching white uniforms. They look awfully familiar.

Crybaby flashes back to her research on Party Poison.

“Guys,” she whispers. 

“Not now,” Sandman snaps, not looking away from Benzedrine. “I know we have to hurry, but just give us a minute, all right?”

They don’t have a minute.

It’s already too late.

“Guys,” she repeats.

***

Crybaby isn’t rattled for long. Now that that woman’s out of the way, she feels quite fine. Better than fine, actually. Everyone around her is shitting themselves, and it’s kind of hilarious. Sandman won’t let go of Benzedrine. Poison is staring at the two BLi soldiers - formerly Jet Star and Kobra Kid, if Crybaby remembers correctly - and he looks just plain _heartbroken_. It’s enough to earn a laugh from her.

Oh, whoops. Looks like she’s pissed off Sandman. God, he’s been so _crabby_ lately. You’d think finding his boyfriend would make him lighten up.

“What’s so funny?” he mutters.

“Oh, nothing,” Crybaby giggles. “This is just so _dramatic_. I wish I had popcorn.”

Sandman scowls. “It’s nothing to laugh about.”

Did he really just say that? Crybaby almost clucks her tongue. He really must not know her at all. “But _isn’t_ it?” she asks. “If you don’t laugh, Sandy-boy, what’ll you do? Cry? We’ve got no time for tears, I’m afraid.”

Kobra Kid tells her to shut up.

She keeps on talking, screams when they gag her, and then talks some more until they take the gag off. It makes her laugh again. She’s so annoying that she managed to undo her punishment! And this way, she can tell them the best part of it all...

“I was only stalling, of course,” she tells Sandman, patting him on the cheek. She’d sent her juvies out quite some time ago. They should be returning with backup in three, two, one…

She shrieks with excitement as Killer King bursts onto the scene in a blaze of glory.

And they’re fighting, fighting, and - ah, she’s been forced onto her knees. Bummer. She really doesn’t like having a gun in her face.

“Not this again,” Poison mutters. Privately, Crybaby’s thinking the same thing, but it’ll do her no good to let him know that.

“Why so glum? Think of it as Russian roulette,” she suggests.

“These guns don’t use bullets,” he points out.

...Fuck. He’s got her there. “Slightly more dangerous Russian roulette?” she tries.

“Everybody freeze!” Jet Star shouts. He starts ordering everyone around in that silly authoritative tone (it really doesn’t work for him, his voice is much too squeaky) and demanding the juvies let them pass by with the killjoys in custody. Crybaby almost snorts. Fat chance. They’re not leaving without their ‘joys.

Kobra claims that he won’t hurt Crybaby and Poison. Killer calls him on his bullshit, which Crybaby approves of, and then does something Crybaby definitely _doesn’t_ approve of.

She might call herself crazy, but apparently, she’s got nothing on Killer King: even she has enough common sense to know that you never challenge a man with a gun in his hand.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Killer had said. 

Oh, but they would.

And this was it, wasn’t it. The end.

Crybaby had been expecting something more… heroic.

It’s with surprise and more than a little disappointment on her part that the gun goes off, sending a burst of energy surging toward her skull.

This wish, this yearning for something _more_ , is the deepest thing she’s felt in a long time.

It’s cut short before she can truly think on it.

Crybaby falls to the floor, and the curtain falls with her.

**Author's Note:**

> up next.... two kids who were separated for way too long


End file.
